


21 to 25 Kisses

by mirroredsparrow



Series: A Catalog of Kisses [5]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Gen, Heavy Drinking, Implied Relationships, M/M, MTF Sei, Other, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirroredsparrow/pseuds/mirroredsparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those who live twice, live well.<br/>And yet I want your lips all the more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	21 to 25 Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not kidding about running out of rhymes.  
> That, and it's 6:30am and I cannae really be bothered.
> 
> Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Drinking - 24, introspection on Mizuki's part.

**21**  
 **back kiss (Mizu/Kou)**

It's the post-coital back kissing that has Koujaku stiffening in all the ways that aren't speaking of comfort that stills Mizuki. Moving away to give the other space, Mizuki shimmed down to a comfier position, shifting awy from Koujaku to give him space. Space the needy fucker didn't seem to want as he began pressing his own quiet kisses to Mizuki's chest.

'My dick has done nothing, I see.'

'Keep giving it credit like that and its ego might inflate to the size of a regular penis.'

'You wound me,' Mizuki pinched lightly at the skin of Koujaku's hand.

'Except make it harder to walk,' Koujaku continued as if Mizuki hadn't spoken, 'Jesus fuck what kind of stretching technique was that?'

'Hey, if you want to bed a guy you gotta be bed by one to understand,' Mizuki lazilly trailed his hand over Koujakus, 'Unless you want to read shitty smut by kids who think lubrication and lube can be used interchangably, and even then... there's the lack thereof.'

 

 

 

**22**  
 **forehead kiss (Noiz/Brother)**

It's not a blowout that sends him hurtling out of home, it's light touches he can't feel from a kid who only wants affection from his big brother. A kid who brings the med-kit before the parents can see the bleeding that had bypassed his notice. There's scars littering his body but he can't begin to explain without a slight dullness creeping into his voice because he just doesn't know.

He takes enough money to hop countries and get himself situated.

Before he leaves, he remembers affection he'd once been given before it became apparent he couldn't feel it. He kisses his brothers forehead, a bit too roughly, and whispers a goodbye.

'Farewell, until we meet again.'

 

 

 

**23**  
 **jawline kiss (Sei/Trip) -- expressedly mtf Sei**

The princess in her high tower had more toys than any other, like a doll she sits on a throne provided for her. There were times, before the tests became so rigorous, so desperate, that Sei weakened with every movement, that they would have discussions together. Discussions where Sei confessed she felt like a princess, albiet a captive one.

It's when she presses a quiet kiss to Trip's jaw, with eyes that only speak of a wish to leave that grows around an inability to continue, that a part of Trip's insides fold.

And so, Trip passes an updated coil on to Aoba with no ill intent.

If everything burns for the princess, so be it.

 

 

 

**24**  
 **stomach kiss (Mizuki/Pseudo)**

He's drunk off his ass and he really could give less of a flying fuck currently.

There are memories, they pool and shift and he's oh-so-aware of their existence, but they're displaced. Somewhere in his center there are things he cannot access, yet they throw his innards about like offal. Files with passcodes and identifications he cannot see drifting in and out of his perception, files he doesn't know if he wants to see.

So, he drinks. He drinks to numb his curiousity. He drinks to cover over emotional reactions he doesn't understand when he stares at empty spaces. When the streets begin laying new coats of paint, there's nothing but a dread he doesnt understand. There are twitches he can't keep down when Aoba comes close, so giving in his forgiveness that Mizuki cannot begin to comprehend. It's a doubt that's creeping in his nervous system, curling over his reactions.

It's a joke. A joke he laughs at before he really, truly, gets slapped in the face by the punchline.

He drinks because there's something tugging on his conciousness at night.

And then there's this asshole box cube then nudging at his stomach.

'P!'

Blinking blearilly at the daylight burning into the back of his retinas, Mizuki tries and fails to cover his face with the palm of his hand. It misses by quite a lot and ends up above his head, a chuckle builds quietly within his chest as 'draw me like one of your french girls' flows around his mind, not quite sure exactly where the memory comes from.

Somehow he's found himself on the floor of his studio, below the window streaming in the offending light. Mouth filled with puke, he pulls himself out of a pile of sick and groans quietly.

The cube he'd hoped to continue ignoring fizzes into life, against Mizuki's hungover wishes.

'You're a fucking disgrace.'

Mizuki grunted in affirmation, honestly not caring if the little cube heard him or not. The light wasn't getting any less offensive and his offacalty senses where kicking into gear in all the ways he didn't appreciate. Head ringing, bile cloying at the inside of his nostrils, Mizuki pushed himself into a position on all fours.

He proceeded to let rip the remaining contents of his stomach.

The cube reverts back to standby, leaving Mizuki alone.

Not sure which he prefers, Mizuki opts for drowing himself in the shower.

Failing that, cleaning off.

 

 

 

**25**  
 **underwater kiss (Trip/Virus)**

'Idiot.'

That's the only word that makes it out before Virus find himself diving into water he cares nothing for in clothing he'd rather not be bone drenched in. Alas.

He pulls Trip to the surface with no real effort, the kid spluttering and gross. Really.

He pushes the fucktard below the water, out of the eyes of their classmates, and pushes a rough kiss to surprised lips.

Idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> This is, probably, testimony to why I shouldn't write at balls o'clock in the morning.


End file.
